Great Minds
by AWanderingMuse
Summary: Will looses his book in a coffee shop. Luckily he finds it again, maybe.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Dark is Rising Sequence or The Chronicles of Narnia. All familiar characters, world features and plot devices belong to Susan Cooper and C.S Lewis, respectively. This story is not for profit, it is for fun.

**Warnings**: This is quite a bit AU. Edmund never died, and the Dark isn't quite as thoroughly beaten as in the books.

**Special thanks**: Shout out to Xandera-Orelia whose profile provided me with the prompt for this story. Thanks for posting that, I had a lot of fun with it!

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The coffee shop was a little antiquated for most students' tastes, but Will relished it. It was relaxing with its green tile floor, comfortable old chairs, and an assortment of tables of all styles and eras. He loved to read there for hours on end, a constant supply of caffeine at his disposal. The caffeine was necessary to keep him awake. He also enjoyed the break studying provided from keeping the Dark at bay.

He turned the page, not really paying attention to the words on the page. About a year ago the Dark began trying to return to Earth. So far, Will had held them back every time. He wondered if Merriman would be proud, or annoyed that the Dark had nearly gotten the upper hand in the most recent battle. Will's powers were still acting strangely from one of the spells the Dark had used against them.

His eyes trailed up to the top of the next page when he realized he had no recollection of what he had just read. With a frustrated huff, Will placed the book on the table and took a sip of his coffee. If he couldn't read, he would people watch. Just then, a man in a grey pea coat and newsboy hat walked in. The barista rushed out from the back room at the sound of the little bell over the door dinging. From where he was sitting Will could see that the man was tall and pale with dark, slightly curling hair.

The man made his order then asked the barista if there was a phone he could use. She was telling him it was in the back, when Will remembered it was rude to eavesdrop.

He heard the man walk towards the payphone in the back hall and smiled, exerting a little bit of power so the dead phone would work. Deciding that he should probably continue reading, Will opened his eyes to find his book missing. With a confused frown as he looked up to see the tome on 1940's medicinal law lying on a table across the room. Will rose to retrieve it, grumbling to himself about the Dark and wayward powers. How fixing a phone had sent his book over there he would never understand.

With the text back in his hands Will dropped back into his seat. He opened the book to his page and continued reading. A few moments later a shadow fell over Will. Its owner cleared his throat and said in a tone that could only be described as diplomatically. "Excuse me, but I think you have my book."

Will looked up to see a youth about his age looking down at him impassively. He was tall and pale with dark, slightly curling hair. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose. Will looked at his book wondering who else could possibly be reading this particular text. Then he heard the distinct sound of a late 1940's car horn. He froze.

Will glanced outside and saw a setting fit for 1950's London. He resisted the urge to groan in frustration. Right, people in the 1950's would have been interested in this text. Get a grip Stanton, he thought to himself while smiling friendly at the stranger whose book he just stole.

"It seems I do." He said trying to give the impression of innocent distraction as he handed the book back. "I apologise."

The only response he received was a pointed stare urging him to explain himself. The regal expression was so similar to one of Bran's he felt compelled to respond. "I must have misplaced my copy."

"Indeed." The other boy nodded in understanding and sat in the chair across from Will's before offering his hand. "I'm Edmund."

"Will," the Old One said while shaking the offered hand.

Edmund settled back more comfortably and commented on one of the laws outlined early in the book. They talked for a little over an hour before Edmund was picked up by his older brother.

"Are you ready to meet the girls?" the tall blonde asked Edmund as he approached their table.

Edmund nodded in a manner Will could only call respectfully. "Of course, we must not be late. Susan would be quite upset."

Edmund said good-bye and with a wave from Will he was gone. Will returned to his own time thinking that there was something strange, but very important, about the brothers. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He opened his eyes to see that a shadow had fallen over him. "Strange," The now familiar voice said, "but you don't seem to have aged."

"Edmund!" Will exclaimed smiling at the man who had minutes ago been using the payphone. How he was going to explain this? It would probably be easier to erase the man's memories, but Will suspected Edmund would be resistant to such magic.

Edmund, now many years his senior, looked down at the book sitting on the table and added with a smirk, "Or read any further in my book."

"I" Will searched for a way to explain his lack of aging, but Edmund rescued him from awkwardly forming an excuse.

"Obviously know the world is not nearly as simple or boring as many believe it to be." Edmund said with a smile. Then sat down in the seat he had just vacated a couple of decades ago.

Will smiled back in thanks then replied, "I was going to say that I believe this is my own copy."

Edmund laughed. Then they began to debate who had proper ownership over the book according to the laws laid out therein.

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**A/N**: I hope you all enjoyed my madness! Erm, I mean, story! I was really just intrigued by the idea of Will and Edmund meet. Not to mention the idea that Will might, like, actually steal something! Even if it was very accidental. Anyways this was also my first time writing fiction off any kind of prompt, so it was fun only having to do half the work!

**Updates**: One-Shot. So, none.

**Reviews**: Constructive criticism is awesome. Flames are for reading by.


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